


The Silent Canary

by romanogersassemble



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanogersassemble/pseuds/romanogersassemble
Summary: Imagine the Summer of 1942... The United States is in the middle of a world war, but the Mafia continues as if nothing is wrong. It's business as usual for the Rushman family until Natasha Rushman, the Boss's daughter, meets Steve Rogers, her new driver. Their relationship turns from friendship to maybe something more.When crisis strikes the Rushman family,  the Mafia is no longer immune to the growing tensions of the world outside. They must deal with their problems head onno matter the cost.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Meet the Rushman's

“I thought I made it abundantly clear we have a ‘no abduction’ policy, son.”  
“She wasn’t cooperating, sir. What did you expect me to do?”  
The redhead smirked at the quarreling duo. She tapped her heels against the cement floor and trained her eyes on the door behind the men.  
  
_Any minute now_ , she thought.  
  
“You know Big Joe is gonna kill us for this.”  
The younger man grimaced, folding his arms across his chest as if hugging himself.  
“Maybe if we let her go, he’ll forget it happened.”  
The redhead strained against the rope that tied her hands to the chair. The two men barely paid her any attention. She cleared her throat, and their heads snapped in her direction.  
“Could I get a drink? I’m absolutely parched.”  
The younger man looked to his boss. The older man nodded, and the other scrambled for some water. He returned quickly with a glass of water for the woman.  
“Here ya go, doll.”  
She took a sip as the man tilted the glass up for her. When he pulled it away from her lips, she smirked.  
“You must be new.”  
The man’s bewildered expression made her chuckle. She slipped one wrist free from the ropes and pummeled the younger man. She freed her other hand and used the younger man as a shield from the other’s bullet. She slipped a gun off the younger’s body and fired one shot at the older man’s kneecaps. He collapsed, screaming and writhing. She dropped the man she held and the gun in her hand. The warehouse door swung open with a crash.  
“You’re late, Pa.”  
“You had all the fun without me, Natasha.”  
Natasha rolled her eyes and sauntered toward her father and his goons.  
“Someone had to save me.” She said as she poked him in the chest.  
  
A young man waited by the cars, his eyes trained on the ground. Natasha stopped short of her car and cleared her throat. The man straightened up. His eyes trailed their way up her body. When his eyes met her face, he blushed as she had her lips pursed and one perfectly groomed eyebrow quirked up at him.  
“Are you going to drive me home or what?”  
The man scrambled to open her door for her. Natasha slid in and let out a sigh. A gunshot echoed through the warehouse district. Natasha flinched and then winced. Her eyes lifted to the man as he closed her door  
“My apologies, Ms. Rushman.” He mumbled as he slid into the car. His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. His blue eyes captured her for a moment. By the look he gave her, she knew he was apologizing for more than just being slow. He turned the key in the ignition. The car jumped to life. The car slinked out of the warehouse district into the bustling city. Natasha watched as the building flashed passed her eyes as nothing more than a blur. She could feel her chauffeur’s eyes on her.  
“You’re new. What’s your name?”  
“Everyone calls me ‘Rogers’.”  
Natasha nodded. “What is your real name though? I like to know people’s real names.”  
They both knew what she insinuated. Sometimes you need to know real names to contact next of kin. This was a dangerous business after all.  
“Steve Rogers.”  
Natasha smiled at him in the rearview.  
“Any family, Steve?”  
Steve’s smile faded. He shook his head.  
“No one?” Natasha asked with a frown.  
Steve shrugged. “I have a friend. His family took me in, but I don’t wanna get them involved with any of this.”  
  
Natasha nodded. _Smart man. I wouldn’t tell a mobster’s daughter either. Never know when they’ll use your family against you._  
  
After that the conversation dwindled away, the rest of the ride was silent. She kept stealing glances at her chauffeur. When he pulled up in front of her townhouse, Natasha slipped out her door before Steve could get around to open it for her. Steve stood awkwardly in front of her. She smiled at him and extended her hand.  
“Pleasure meeting you, Steve.”  
Steve nodded and lifted her hand to his lips.  
“The pleasure was mine, Ms. Rushman.”  
Natasha nearly rolled her eyes at his flirting. She snatched hand away from him with a smirk.  
“It’s Natasha.”  
She turned away from him as he chuckled. After climbing a few steps, she looked back at Steve. He still stood there watching her.  
“Maybe I’ll see you around?”  
Steve shrugged as his smile grew wider. “Farewell, Ms. Rushman.”  
Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. She turned away from him with a swish of her dress and climbed the rest of the steps. She paused at the top and watched as Steve strolled down the street away from her. A smile spread across her face.  
  
_I could get used to him_ , she mused quietly.  
  
Her home laid silent. The elegant foyer and grand staircase stood tall and proud in front of her. She had the place to herself. No mobster decorum to deal with. She could do whatever she wanted. After quickly glancing around the house making sure she was truly alone, she bounded up the stairs taking two steps at a time as her hand gripped the mahogany banister to give her leverage.  
  
The front door squeaked open, and Natasha stopped dead in her tracks with one leg stretched out two steps up. Her father shook his head and stepped aside as men from their organization filed in. She pulled her leg down and stood straight with her arms clasped behind her back, nodding and slightly bowing her head to the men as they each gave her a smile and a nod.  
“Have a good meeting, Pa.”  
Her father, Joe, smiled. Before he closed the parlor door behind himself, he called Natasha to the him. “The Rogers boy will be chauffeuring you for the foreseeable future. I haven’t found a new driver yet, and Rogers asked for a job to help support his family.”  
Natasha nodded and slowly ascended the stairs her fingers grazing the banister. Once out of her father’s sight, she sprinted into her room and leapt on to her bed. She rolled on to her back and let out a heavy sigh.  
  
Rival mob activities had peaked in the last few weeks, and she had taken the brunt of the attacks. The war between her father and another boss, Richie had escalated, and her abduction was a testament to that. While Richie’s boys didn’t usually abduct anyone especially not a rival mob boss’s daughter, tensions were growing, and no one more than Natasha knew that.  
The cream-colored ceiling of her room seemed a dingy white as she stared blankly at them. The ceiling felt closer than ever. A wave of heat washed over her body, and she broke out in a sweat. She rolled on to her side, and her walls seemed so close she could touch them. She reached out but met only open air. She stretched her limps, but that didn’t relieve the tension she felt. She pushed herself off the bed and walked over to her window. She flung the window open and stuck her head out. A breeze blew her hair in front of her eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief. The house felt like a prison to her when her father’s men were here. She had a certain image to uphold as the boss’s daughter. Her only escape from that life was when she was alone but being alone was no vacation either.  
  
Natasha walked over to her phone. A scribbled note in her father’s handwriting laid on her desk.  
_Steve Rogers_ , it said, _Your Chauffeur_.  
She picked up the phone and waited until she was patched through to Steve. A woman’s voice echoed through the phone. Natasha politely asked for Steve. She waited patiently lightly tapping her foot against the hardwood floor. A familiar voice came over the phone.  
“Hello, Ms. Rushman. How can I be of service?”  
“Hi, Steve. If you’re not busy, I’d like to go down to the water.”  
“Certainly, be there in a jiffy.”  
“Thank you.”  
“My pleasure, Ms. Rushman.”  
  
Natasha rolled her eyes at her name. She hated being called Ms. Rushman. She quickly changed her clothes into something more comfortable and then quietly ran down the stairs. She snatched up her purse and a hat and slipped out the front door without making a noise. She plopped down on the steps and waited for Steve to arrive. He strolled down the sidewalk; his mind seemingly somewhere else. He stopped just short of her house and straightened up his clothes. Natasha popped up with a smirk on her lips.  
“Hello, Rogers.”  
Steve bowed his head slightly. “Greetings, Ms. Rushman.” A small smirk played over his lips.  
“I’ll have you fired if you call me Ms. Rushman one more time.” Natasha said with a playful smile as Steve opened her car door for her.  
“Where to, Ms- Natasha?”  
Natasha nodded graciously.  
“I don’t know. Surprise me. I just want to stare out at the water.”  
Steve pulled out into the street. “I know just the place.”  
  
Steve weaved through back streets toward his destination. Natasha watched as they meandered through the city. She had lost track of where they were a few turns back after retreating into her thoughts. Steve pulled up to a small park under the Brooklyn Bridge. She let herself out of the car before Steve could get around to her. She smiled as the summer breeze blew from the water into her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The open air made her worries disappear for a moment. Steve stood beside her as she took in the site.  
“I can stay with the car while you explore.”  
Natasha shook her head. “I don’t want to be alone.”


	2. Get to Know Me

The humid summer breeze blew off the Hudson River toward Natasha and Steve. The wind rustled her light, pale green summer dress, blowing the hem up slightly. Natasha stared out at the water getting lost in the horizon for a moment. She wished she could be whatever she wanted even if just for a day. She imagined a life where she had no limitations on her. Steve cleared his throat, and Natasha was catapulted back to the present from her imaginary world. She stepped forward moving toward the water. Steve followed a few feet behind her.  
Natasha leaned against the railing. Water splashed against the rocks below her. The mist sprayed her legs. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Steve stood silently behind her wondering what was going on inside the woman’s head. She rolled her shoulders trying to relieve the stress and tension in her muscles. Steve stepped up and leaned against the railing beside her. Natasha’s eyes snapped open as Steve invaded her personal space. She glanced at him. Steve flashed her a soft smile.  
“What’s on your mind?” Steve asked. “Do you wanna talk about it?”  
Natasha hesitated. Her father probably wouldn’t approve of her telling family secrets. Most in their organization didn’t know they were at war.  
Natasha changed her expression, forcing the stress to melt from her face. She smirked.  
“Different question, Rogers.”  
“Well, tell me about you.”  
Natasha scoffed a little at the question. “What would like to know about me?”  
Steve animatedly rubbed his chin. Natasha laughed quietly.  
“What was your childhood like?”  
Natasha slumped slightly. She tucked her arms closer to her body and fiddled with her hands. _A deep question so soon_ , she thought. She pushed a rogue hair behind her ear trying to mold it back into its place. Steve noticed the change in her posture.  
“Forgive me, Natasha. Don’t feel like you have to answer that.”  
Natasha shook her head. “It’s stressful being the daughter of Joe Rushman.”  
She opened her mouth to continue, but Steve nudged her with his elbow. Natasha glanced at him. He shook his head, letting her know she didn’t have to divulge anything more.  
  
“Well, Rogers. Tell me about you.”  
Steve shrugged. “I’m nothing special.”  
Natasha shook her head. She turned toward him, leaning her side against the warm metal railing.  
“Everyone’s got something unique about them. There’s gotta be something, Rogers.”  
Steve sighed, turning his body to face her. His eyes lifted to her eyes. She had a playful smirk splayed across her red lips.  
“What’s your heart’s desire?”  
Steve stifled a smile.  
“Wow. Ah-” Steve ran his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. His dream of being an artist seemed so lofty he dared not even mention it. Artists struggled: penniless and tortured. Steve was working for the Rushman family because he knew he could never make it as an artist. He focused on Natasha as she leaned in, closing the distance between them. She rested her chin on her hand as she analyzed the boats chugging passed in the bay. She glanced back at Steve, and the look on her face struck him. Her piercing green eyes seemed to peer into his soul. A connection formed between them even though they barely knew each other.  
“I’m an artist.” Steve answered before even thinking.  
Natasha smiled. “That’s amazing.”  
Blood rushed to Steve’s face. His ears burned read, and his gaze lowered to his feet.  
“Thanks”, he muttered.  
  
Natasha turned back to the water in front of her. Steve followed suit, resting his forearms on the metal railing. Despite being almost strangers, the silence that followed felt comfortable. They both watched the boats pass by and the birds swoop down into the water and periodically commented about something they saw.  
Natasha sighed; her eyes briefly shifted to Steve who was rambling about his father worked on the tugboats. His eyes shone as he talked about spending time at the harbor with friends waiting for their fathers to come in at night. He told her about sketching the boats as they passed by and his friends skipping rocks on the bay. _A futile effort_ , she thought, but the image of little Steve sketching while other little boys pelted the bay with pebbles made her smile.  
  
Peace washed over her. The normalcy of their conversation made her happy. She felt like more than just collateral or a pawn as he told her about his childhood. She wondered what a carefree childhood felt like. Natasha’s mind wandered to her own childhood as she watched smoke puff from a tugboat.  
  
The air filled with cigar smoke during stuffy mafia meetings. She would sit beside her father his arm resting on the loveseat behind her. Periodically, he would jab her spine, reminding her to sit straight and not slouch; they had an image of posh elegance she had to maintain. His jab would jolt her to attention. The chime of the grandfather clock in the foyer signaled her bedtime and the start of the real business talks. The ding-dong of the clock coincided with the rattling of ice in a glass. _Ding-Dong. Clink. Ding-Dong. Clink. Ding-Dong. Clink._ She counted the chimes knowing by the ninth and final chime her nanny would slip in as the bartender served a whiskey on rocks to her father. These moments were the soundtrack of her childhood.  
Her nanny would usher her out. Natasha would balk as nanny pushed her towards the door. She wanted to be close to her father, wanted to feel a part of his life. All she wanted was to be more than just Big Joe’s little girl. Without fail, Natasha squirmed away from her nanny, but the door would slam closed in her face. As she was escorted to her bedroom, silent tears would make their descent down her rosy cheeks.  
All she wanted was to be loved, all she needed was to be wanted by Joe, but these moments hardened her of exclusion. She learned to not need anyone, not even her father. Eventually, Joe saw this change in his little girl. She was becoming the apathetic mobster he was. The chimes that used to signal the end of Natasha’s time with her father passed and she held her position beside her father, straight backed. But this inclusion didn’t dull the ache in her heart to have a real relationship with her father. 

  


Natasha’s mind was elsewhere as her unfocused eyes watched the billowing smoke of tugboats. Steve noticed Natasha’s vacant expression, but he quieted down. Natasha returned to the present and a plastered smile spread across her lips.  
Something about Joe Rushman’s daughter intrigued him. He wanted to know more about her - get to know who Natasha Rushman really was.


End file.
